Not Who I Am, Not Who You Are
by SimplyCursive
Summary: Captain Arthur Pendragon is on a hunt for the Dread Pirate Emrys. What will he find when the villain is caught? Eventual but definite Arthur/Merlin. Pirate AU. Blood/gore warning.
1. The Dread Pirate

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, only the AU is mine. Arthur, Merlin, Gwen, and everyone else belong to the BBC.

Author's note: I don't really know how long this will be, but it will probably be at least a another chapter before Merlin enters the story, and a couple chapters before anything happens between the boys. But it will happen, I promise!

Chapter 1 - The Dread Pirate

A furious wind filled the sails, occasionally sending them billowing, cracking, and filling again. A large group of men, most in long blue frock coats and white breaches, stood together on the main deck of the ship. They let the wind carry the ship as they listened to their captain yell down at them from the forecastle.

Captain Pendragon was one of the youngest men to ever captain a ship in the Royal Navy. As such, he was more than a little arrogant. His ego was inflated even more due to the attention he received for his attractiveness. When he returned home from his voyages, there was often a stack of letters from various ladies waiting for him, each proclaiming their undying affection for him. His only answer to these letters was always an expression of his regrets and a note about how the sea was his first and foremost love. Standing in his captain's uniform, golden hair clinging to his forehead from the salt spray of the sea and blue eyes reflecting the water, even his men could not deny his handsomeness. Despite these things, the men adored and respected their captain.

"Men, as some of you may know, we are embarking on a journey from which many of us may not return. There have been rumors of sightings of the Dread Pirate Emrys, known to some as the Black Dragon, and his ship, the Kilgharrah. We have been ordered to investigate these rumors and are therefore heading southwest to Puerto Magia in Puerto Rico, where the rumors were collected, to search for the pirate and his ship. We are to capture him alive, if possible, or kill him, if necessary. I expect that each of you will serve your country with bravery!" At that, the men let out a loud cheer. Many had joined the service for the opportunity of fighting and killing pirates. "Now, to your stations!"

With that, the men scattered. Captain Pendragon gave a series of orders to his first mate, Mister Percival, who in turn barked them to the crew. The captain then returned to his quarters.

* * *

In his cabin, Captain Pendragon poured over maps that were spread erratically on an elegant, round wooden table in the center of the room. His hat and frock coat had been tossed over a chair. A large, comfortable bed was pushed against the back wall, and candles were burning in lamps all over the room. It was easily the most luxurious room in the entire ship and it suited the confidence exuded by the young captain.

The maps the captain was staring at, and had been for hours, were those of various Caribbean and South American islands. The southern American continent seemed to be a favorite location of the Dread Pirate, as many bays, coves, and tiny islands that he had previously used as hideaways had been circled in red ink. The pirate had been chased before, having been reported at many ports throughout the years he had been active, but he had never once been even close to capture. Only a handful of times had Navy ships ever reported seeing the Kilgharrah personally. This frustrated the British Royal Navy immensely, and had caused them to send their young prodigy in hopes of capturing the menace once and for all.

Through the years, the Dread Pirate Emrys and his crew had attacked numerous prospering coastal British, Spanish, Portuguese, and Italian cities, always clearing the riches from the largest houses, leaving those who were once thriving in total poverty. Many said that his ship, the Kilgharrah, was the fastest ship that ever sailed the seas. It was painted completely black, and flew black sails. In place of the typical skull and crossbones, the ship flew a black flag with a white dragon. No one knew the story behind the pirate or his ship, but plenty had been manufactured anyway. What he did with his treasure, only the captain and his crew knew. Captain Pendragon jumped a little at the sound of a sharp knock on his cabin door. "Come in," he shouted, but he didn't look up as his second mate entered the room.

"Arthur, you will tire yourself out before we even get to Puerto Magia if you stay up late looking at maps every night."

"Please, _Mister_ Gwaine, call me Captain on this ship. We may have been friends as boys, but I hold a superior rank now. The other men will not respect me if they hear my own second mate call me by my first name! Even Percy calls me Captain..." Arthur sighed and sat down at one of the six chairs that sat around the table. Gwaine went to stand behind him, putting a friendly hand on the captain's shoulder.

"Alright, _Captain Pendragon. _Have you learnt anything new since you scoured these same maps last night?"

Arthur could hear the mockery in Gwaine's voice, but he ignored it. His reputation was on the line, and if he could find and capture the pirate, he would be known as a hero. If he failed, he would probably be demoted and serve the rest of his time in the Navy on a patrol ship.

"Well, tell me what else I can do, Gwaine!"

"How about this," Gwaine started, rolling up the maps on the table one by one, "put away the maps, get a good night's rest, and then see what we can find when we get to Puerto Magia. I know you will probably feel useless and idle until we get there, but you are no use to your crew if you are tired and out of sorts."

Arthur sighed again. He knew Gwaine was right. Gwaine, Percival, and some of the other men on the ship had been friends since they were much younger and had enlisted in the service together. Arthur, with his father's fortune and high ranking in the Navy, had been primed to be captain, and the others were happy to leave the responsibilities that came with it to him. He gratefully accepted their advice on matters, even with his somewhat inflated ego.

"You're right, of course you're right." Arthur stood and gripped his friend's shoulder. "You should get some rest as well, my friend."

"I'll leave you then. Goodnight, Captain."

Arthur smiled and nodded as the door closed. He decided he really would try to get some sleep. He pulled off what remained of his uniform and slipped into a night shift. As he lay in bed, no longer in his gold braid and buttons, no huge coat framing his well-muscled body, the captain looked quite small and quite young. The burdens of captainry had already begun to weaken him, and they would much more in time.

* * *

About six weeks had passed when the crew of HMS Albion found themselves nearing Puerto Magia. The men on the ship were filled with excitement at the prospect of shore leave after the long voyage. The officers had to keep reminding them to keep their focus on their work, but their warnings were not heeded long. Finally, as the ship approached the port, Captain Pendragon addressed his crew.

"I expect my men to remain civil while on shore leave. You will have today and tomorrow for your own pleasure, but the day after tomorrow you are expected to be at your post bright and early to shove off. You may leave in the morning as you please, but all crew members are to be back by the 11 o'clock curfew, no exceptions. If any of you are found deserting, the punishment is death. You will be rewarded if you return with information about the Black Dragon's whereabouts. Now, to your stations, let's bring her in easy!" The men scattered, taking their places, preparing to pull up against the port. They were mostly seasoned sailors, operating smoothly with practiced hands.

With the ship docked and the gangplank set, the men waited, jittering, for the final word of their captain. "Dismissed!" he cried, and the men raced for the plank, taking care not to fall into the water beneath them.

Arthur smirked after them. He knew what seamen and petty officers got up to on shore leave. And honestly, seeking pleasure at the whorehouses or getting drunk on crude ales had never much appealed to Arthur, in the same way that the women who professed their love in letters to him never had. He had a different purpose on shore leave.

The captain's trusted officers - Percival, Elyan, Lancelot, Gwaine, and Leon - had all stayed behind. They waited to receive instructions, as they shared the same mission as their captain. Arthur watched as the final men scurried onto solid ground before he turned to his finest officers, who also happened to have been his closest friends and advisors.

"You know why we are here, my friends. Find out what you can about our pirate friend. Do not outright search for information, you are much more clever than that. Use your senses and your stealth. Keep open ears and do your best to blend in." Arthur held out a sack of clothing to each man. &"These clothes will help you in that area. Be very careful. There are friends of pirates here and they will not take kindly to the intrusion of navy men on whatever peace they've managed to procure."

He nodded to them and they all left to their own quarters to change.

* * *

Later that night, Arthur found himself at a particularly loud and rowdy alehouse, slowly nursing a mug of cheap ale that he didn't much care for. His clothes itched and abraded his skin. They were not the fine cottons and silks he was used to, but he braved them for the sake of his mission. The cacophony of sound made it difficult to distinguish what anyone was saying, let alone to pick the keywords he was listening for from conversations.

Suddenly, a single, strange word drifted into his ears.

_ Warlock._

The Black Dragon went by many names. Warlock was a strange and obscure one, but when Arthur turned nonchalantly to search for the person whose lips it had left, he was certain they were talking about the Dread Pirate.

Two men, only three meters away from Arthur's own table, were leaning very close together and talking only loud enough to be heard by the other over the din. Or so they thought. They had tried to dress to fit in, but Arthur noticed the markings of a pirate immediately: the scruffy beards, the patched and unwashed clothes, the gold hoop in one ear, the cloth tied around the head. As Arthur honed in on their conversation, he realized that they had been talking about the dread pirate in code words all along, in a mix of English and the native Spanish. The words "Bahia de Diablo" were thrown between them a few times. Each time the words were said, it felt to Arthur as though other sounds were dulled; he sensed they held great importance, but he knew not why. Then the men looked around and caught the navy captain staring at them. Arthur tried to play it off, but the pirates had developed enough suspicion about him to move on from the alehouse. The captain sighed into his drink, looking somewhat forlorn that he had given himself away and lost his only lead. Then, a quite old man sat down across from him, a pint of ale in his hand. He was dark from time spent in the sun, and his skin was scarred from years of hard work. Beneath his leathery skin, strong muscles could be seen. He covered most of his body with light, loose-fitting clothes, and an ethereal feeling accompanied his movements.

He had a thick accent when he spoke, but it didn't sound like the same accent as those around him. "My friend, why you are looking so sad? This is a joyous place, much merry-making!"

Arthur stared at the man, debating what to tell him.

"Do you know any Spanish, my good man?"

"Spanish? Ahhh, Anhora know many languages, Spanish is but one of them! Why you are asking?"

"Well, um, Anhora, I seem to have picked up a few phrases here that I don't quite seem to understand. Do you think you can help me?"

Anhora furrowed his furry eyebrows for a brief moment before he broke into a huge smile. "Helping you! Very good, Anhora like very much helping friends! What seems to be giving you the trouble?"

As casually as possible, Arthur said, "There is one thing I heard. Do you know what...Bahia de Diablo means?"

The air around the men seemed to get thicker and the sounds seemed to muffle. The bright colors looked a touch less vivid. But only for a moment. Then, in a flash, everything returned to normal. Arthur looked around furiously. He didn't understand what had happened and nobody else seemed to notice. He was beginning to think he was going crazy when he looked to Anhora, who was wearing a grim expression, in stark contrast to his bright smile earlier

"There is being a dark power in those words, my friend. You have felt it. Bahia de Diablo, the Devil's Bay. It is being a place where evil spirits live, on the western tip of the island that is calling Virgin Gorda. Do not go there, my friend, not if you are valuing your life. Many men have tried to navigate the shallow waters and jutting rocks, in searching for the treasure and the glory, and all have failed. It is being a place of death."

Anhora's dark words struck fear into Arthur. He had felt the power those words held and instinctively knew to fear it. However, he couldn't understand out why he feared them, nor the place they named.

"Anhora, why is it that the Devil's Bay carries such fear, such evil?" Arthur took a few sips of his drink, finding himself to be surprisingly thirsty.

The old man smiled again, though not as brightly as before. "Some say it is being an old, dark magic that comes from the earth itself. Others say it is being superstition carried by old men, like Anhora. Anhora believes there is being a power in some words."

_ Magic._

The word echoed in Arthur's head. He had never believed in magic before, believing it to be the subject of fairy tales and the imagination of children, but having felt the dark power of the words - _Bahia de Diablo _- he could understand why someone else might. Still, he had his reservations.

"Magic...well, thank you very much for your assistance, Anhora. I must be going now. I hope we will meet again." Arthur stood and held out his hand to the old man.

"Yes, Arthur, I am hoping we are to be meeting in the future!" Anhora smiled and Arthur returned it.

As he was leaving, Arthur looked back at the man, but Anhora seemed to have disappeared. Arthur shrugged and continued on his way back to his beloved ship, HMS Albion.

It was only later, as he was falling asleep to the gentle rocking of the water, that Arthur realized he had never told the man his name.

* * *

The next morning, the captain shot out of bed, rushing to throw on his clothes. He kicked himself mentally for forgetting to tell his officers what had transpired the night before. _What if I forgot? What would have happened then? We would have lost the only lead we have so far._

Arthur rushed onto the deck, calling his officers frantically. They followed him back to his cabin and sat around the huge circular table in the center of the room. After he described to them the previous night's events, withholding the part about the magic, the men seemed to realize that they now had a solid lead for the Dread Pirate's location.

"The waters are treacherous. You may think they are shallow, but in reality they are as deep as the pits of hell. You may think they are deep, but the sand is brushing your hull. There are rocks close to the surface that may seem to be thousands of meters below. There are rocks that tower high above the tallest mast of any ship. Bahia de Diablo, the Devil's Bay," Arthur said, pointing it out on a map of the Virgin Islands. A cold wind seemed to blow through the room, though the door and windows were all closed. Sound and color seemed muffled, as it had the night before, and the men shifted in their seats as the sensation passed.

The same sensation was felt by every man on HMS Albion the next morning, as Captain Arthur Pendragon repeated the new destination of the doomed ship to his crew.


	2. A Dragon Felled

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, only the AU is mine. Arthur, Merlin, Gwen, and everyone else belong to the BBC.

Author's note: By the way, I love getting reviews so that I can improve my story and my writing, so send away! Let me know what you guys are thinking! Thank you so much to those of you who have followed and reviewed already~

WARNING: There is going to be some gore up ahead! It is a pirate battle after all! If that kind of stuff bothers or triggers you, please do not read, or skip over it!

Chapter 2 - A Dragon Felled

The journey to the Devil's Bay took very little time in comparison to crossing the Atlantic Ocean - only a few days or so - but it seemed to the crew to draw on forever. They were agitated and anxious from the moment they had learned of their destination. All had heard tales of Sirens that entice sailors with their song, only to feast on their bodies once the enchanted men jumped into the water to join them. Tales of giant snake-like creatures that could swallow a ship whole, or of the horrible Kraken that could drag down even the largest frigate with a single tentacle. The fact that they were sailing away from Bermuda and the mysterious events that accompanied its waters didn't seem to put any of their minds at ease.

So far the journey had been a sailor's dream. The waters were calm and beautiful, and the wind blew enough to fill the sails, but not so much as to disrupt the ship's activities. There was not a cloud in the bright blue sky. There were no seabirds either. It was as though they were stuck in the world of a painting, but they could see the islands move past them in the distance.

It put every man on edge.

Captain Pendragon called his trusted officers into his cabin to sit round the table and discuss a battle plan in case they did indeed find the pirate in the bay.

"Obviously, we cannot enter the bay. It is much too dangerous. We will have to draw him out of there somehow, but how do we do that? In the past he has only run from Navy ships." Arthur said, slamming his fist down on the table. The Dread Pirate Emrys had no honor and was unpredictable because of it.

"We could...send a few men in a dinghy to appeal for help?" Elyan offered. The other men just stared at him incredulously.

"Oh yes, I'm sure the Black Dragon would just _love _to drop all his business to help out some poor lost sailors!" Gwaine shot back. Leon and Lancelot chuckled. Arthur gave them a stern look.

"Unreasonable or not, at least Mister Elyan is suggesting an idea, which is more than any of you are doing," the captain said, effectively shaming the men into silence.

A few silent minutes passed as each man tried to work out a way to trap one of the cleverest and fastest sailors on the sea.

"What about setting fire to his ship?" Leon suggested.

"What exactly would that solve, Leon?" Arthur replied.

Leon shrugged, deflated.

"We could send in a team of fighters to sneak onto the ship and slit the pirates throats in their sleep!" Gwaine announced.

"They want him alive, Gwaine, if we can manage it."

Gwaine mumbled in irritation and fell silent again.

Percival spoke up for the first time so far. "What if we went in after him?"

The others gawked. Arthur looked dark and stone-cold.

"My friend, I'm afraid you have gone completely mad," Gwaine retorted. The others mumbled in agreement.

"What other choice do we have?" Arthur said, barely above a whisper. The men turned to him. They looked lost. Arthur's voice picked up when he continued. "There are no other choices! He is a pirate, he is not simply going to be fooled into leaving the safety of his bay. The only option is to go to him and trap him in his own territory. Once we are in the bay, he will not be able to leave. The opening is much too small, the bay itself is very small-"

"And what if our ship is damaged or destroyed before we even get to the pirate?!" Gwaine was in hysterics.

"Then we will die trying!"

This threw all the men into silent thought, even Gwaine. As Navy men, it was their duty to perform their mission to the best of their ability, or die trying. If they went back saying they had found the pirate but hadn't captured him because they were concerned for their ship or their men, they would all surely be stripped of their ranks and perhaps even discharged from the Royal Navy in disgrace. They had to go in and they all knew it.

"So we go in and fire away?" Gwaine said, no longer bold and full of vigor.

"Like our ancestors before us," Arthur replied, sending a halfhearted chuckle among his men. They knew that entering the bay left every man on the ship with an even lower chance of survival than a battle with the Black Dragon alone, and they were not keen on meeting their ends.

Arthur bore this weight more than any of the others, being the one who now dictated the sailors' destinies. His shoulders sagged as he dismissed his friends. His skin paled as he told the helmsman his plan for the following day, before giving the order to drop the anchor for the night. He didn't even notice the dreary grey clouds creeping in over the horizon. His entire body felt like it was being slowly crushed as he sank into his bed that night. He slept fitfully, dreaming of the deaths of his friends and his crew. He violently awoke to the flash of lightning and crash of thunder as a sudden storm racked the ship. He stared out the large glass windows and despaired.

* * *

On the morning of what was sure to be a great battle, icy rain pelted the men as they stood together once again, waiting for their captain to speak. They couldn't see from where they were standing, especially through the sheets of rain uncharacteristic to the tropical region they were in, but the captain had dark circles under his eyes and his entire body drooped just a little. What time he had not spent dreaming of gore he had spent awake, pacing as he played the battle out in his mind again and again. Each time the outcome was different. Each time someone else had died.

"We are about to find out if the information we collected at Puerto Magia was accurate and if indeed the Dread Pirate Emrys resides in this bay. If he does, we will engage him in battle. I expect you will fight with bravery to the end. For the Queen!" The sailors echoed the cry and cheered, pumping themselves up for the battle. They were afraid of the gruesome deaths that might await them, and the consequences of losing, but the glory and fortune of winning excited them even more.

"To arms!" Arthur cried, and the men ran to strap sheathed swords around their waists. Some of the men hurtled down to the lower deck to man the cannons. Arthur himself withdrew to his quarters, strapping both a magnificent rapier, one that had previously belonged to his father, and a long-barreled revolver around himself. He ran a tired hand through his hair before setting his hat over it. If he was to die, he would die with honor.

"Captain, we are circling the bend. The bay is coming into view!" Percival announced as he stormed through the door. Arthur followed him out. The rain drenched them immediately.

The two men stood side by side on the forecastle. Arthur held a long brass spyglass to his eye and squinted through it, determined to catch a glimpse of the black ship. As they rounded the bend, the very tips of black sails came into view.

"SHIP HO!" cried the man in the crow's nest, a cry echoed by the men on board.

"Ship ho," Arthur repeated softly to Percival. The first mate nodded.

The next thing that caught the crew's attention was the myriad of sharp rocks, jutting angrily into the sky. They alone would be difficult to navigate, and their water-bound brethren made damage to the hull nearly impossible to avoid. Even their seasoned helmsman would have difficulty getting them in and out, especially with the storm still raging. Arthur put his hopes in the man.

The water was grey and thrashing, an echo of the roiling sky above them. Vicious gusts smacked the sails and sent the lines flailing. The storm had come suddenly, as though protecting the pirate ship, and it didn't seem to have any indication of passing any time soon. Rain was slapping the deck, and lightning cracked uncomfortably close. Arthur kept his spyglass trained on the enemy ship. Every element seemed to be conspiring against the Navy ship, and it concerned Arthur beyond measure.

The helmsman pulled furiously at the wheel, using all his strength to guide the immense ship safely through the rocks. Her port side scraped against a boulder, but not hard enough to do much damage. The ship jolted, however, and a few of the men were sent shrieking into the unforgiving waves. The rest of the men scrambled to their feet and returned to their posts, holding on to lines and rails tighter than before.

"Hard to port!" The captain called, and the men repeated it until the order reached the helmsman. He would draw up the starboard side of the Albion and fire the port canons, before getting close enough to board the Kilgharrah.

It was only then that the enemy ship seemed to notice the approaching Navy ship. She started pulling alongside the Albion, as though realizing that escape was no longer an option and that her only chance was to fight. She faced the Albion with her port side, seeming to challenge the Navy ship.

HMS Albion drew closer to the pirate ship, with little incident. The rocking of the waves made aiming the cannons a challenge, but the men below did their best. Percival took his place at the top of the stairs, and Gwaine took his at the bottom, ready to relay the messages from the captain to the firing crew.

"Hold!" Captain Pendragon called. Percival repeated the order to Gwaine who in turn relayed it to the gunners. As the Albion pulled close to the Kilgharrah, a wave batted her against a rock. More men flew overboard and some of the wood making up the hull splintered to pieces.

"Captain! The hull had been breached! She's taking on water!" Percival yelled, relaying the message from below.

"How fast?"

"Above the waterline, not too fast! Several liters per second! But she will not hold out for long!"

"Tell the gunners to hold their posts! If we can make it long enough to capture the pirate, we can focus on repairs later!"

"Aye, sir!"

Arthur cursed. He knew his ship would take some damage, but it was unlucky that the damage had to be taken before the Kilgharrah was overtaken and the Dread Pirate captured.

"We are in range! Fire!" Arthur called to Percival, who repeated the message down.

Twenty-two cracks filled the air as the starboard cannons fired, almost simultaneously. Arthur managed to keep himself from flinching at the explosions that hurled the heavy iron balls at the enemy ship. As it was, most flew well over the black ship, but one well placed cannonball took a bite out of the enemy's mizzenmast. One more shot would knock it into the water, crippling the Kilgharrah.

As the gunners reloaded, the Kilgharrah shot her own round, but rather than cannonballs, a rain of fireballs shot from her sides. Railings were destroyed, and one shot flew through a large sail on the foremast. The edges of the canvas where the shot went through were singed, but the rain had soaked the wood and the cloth, and the fire was unable to catch. Arthur briefly blessed the storm.

The shots were not well aimed, but the fire unhinged the crew. How was that possible, fire falling from the sky? Arthur looked darkly at the ship and drew out his spyglass again, searching for the pirate captain.

_ Magic._

The word echoed in his mind. He didn't know what to think about everything that was happening, but he was beginning to think that magic wasn't merely a figment of folk tales. He had felt the weight words carried before. And no other explanation could be offered for the appearance of the fireballs.

_ Warlock._

The nickname was beginning to make sense.

"Captain?" Percival called through the panic and the rain and the violent rush of waves.

"Are we loaded?"

"Aye!"

"Fire!"

A second round of cannon fire soon followed. This time, a sprinkling of holes appeared in the lower hull of the enemy ship. One shot took down the mizzenmast, a few more blew holes in the sails. The Kilgharrah began taking on water, faster than the Albion. The Navy ship was beginning to gain the upper hand.

Through his spyglass, Arthur could see panic on board the enemy vessel. He happened upon the flag, dangling by a single fiber in disgrace. He still couldn't seem to find the pirate captain. But something else did catch his eye. A woman seemed to be giving out orders. _A woman_, Arthur thought, _on a ship. _Commanding. _No wonder we are winning. _The bad luck associated with having a woman on board a ship was well known to all sailors, navy and pirate alike. Arthur scoffed, a little disheartened that what seemed to be an oncoming victory wasn't due to his nautical prowess and commanding skills.

"Bravo, the dragon is felled. I think it is time to board, Mister Percival." Arthur called out. Percival nodded and let the lower levels know.

The captain turned to his men. "Men! It is time to board the enemy vessel! This is the moment we have all been waiting for! Gather your courage and board by my side!" The men cheered and hooks tied at the end of thick ropes sailed overhead, landing on the Kilgharrah's deck. The men pulled until the hooks were lodged into the side of the ship and with a "Heave!" they managed to pull the ships close enough to lower a few large gangplanks from HMS Albion to the Kilgharrah. With a battle cry, the Navy men stormed the enemy ship, some drawing swords, others drawing pistols or firing rifles.

The battle was utter chaos. Bodies fell with a thud as they were pierced with bullets and blades. Blood splashed the deck and soaked the clothes of both sides. White stockings and breeches were stained red and bodies lay slashed open, innards spilling onto the deck. Sailors and pirates alike slipped in the gore and screamed into the faces of dead comrades and foes. The morale of the fighters sank quickly from glorified excitement to terror and disgust. The metallic stink of blood pierced the air and remained even after most off the bodies and blood had been swept away by the leaping waves and the pouring rain. Some of the men backed away from the fighting and began to sob, unable to stand the death around them. A few men retched. Most kept fighting.

Arthur searched for the pirate captain, fighting through the crowd of enemies. He didn't know what the man looked like nor where to find him, but he hoped to find the man fighting. To shrink away while your crew died at the hands of your enemies was the most shameful thing Arthur could imagine, and he wrinkled his face in disgust at the thought.

Off to his left, the woman he had seen earlier was fighting with a valor and ferocity that impressed Arthur. In that moment he decided that there were worse things than having a woman on board a ship.

Then a shout pierced the air. There was a dark power in the shout, and the sound rang through the air. Arthur felt the same sensation of dullness as he had at the alehouse in Puerto Magia. This was the feeling he had learned to associate with magic.


	3. Not As He Seems

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, only the AU is mine. Arthur, Merlin, Gwen, and everyone else belong to the BBC.

Author's note: Stay tuned for the next chapter, where you find out the Black Dragon's motivations for taking on the name!

Edit: Every time I post a chapter, I go back and find some tiny mistake and end up reposting the thing twice or three times. Sorry...

Chapter 3 - Not As He Seems

The shout had come from a young man standing on the lowest branch of the mainmast. Arthur couldn't see him well, but he knew in an instant that this man was the captain. His yell caused the fighting to cease immediately. Arthur and all his men found that the hatred and anger had gone from them, the will to fight erased. Most of the men dropped their weapons and took in the horror around them. The pirate captain scrambled gracelessly down the rigging and onto the main deck where the fighting had taken place. He looked around sorrowfully at the death around him and then looked straight at Arthur, ice blue eyes piercing. Arthur was startled to find he was just a boy, not much younger than Arthur himself. Messy black hair in dire need of a cut fell in wet strings from under his hat. His clothing was pieced together from various uniforms, colors clashing. All of his clothes were too large for his thin frame. He was skinny and looked a touch malnourished. The pirate captain stood tall, but he was dwarfed by the strong, thick sailors around him. The Dread Pirate Emrys looked to Arthur an awful lot like a scrawny wet kitten and the image confused him. This was the Black Dragon?

"No more fighting. No more death," the pirate captain called out. The men had made a small oval space where the captains could talk face to face.

"A duel, then, to decide the fate of your men!" Arthur called back, drawing his sword.

The pirate shook his head. "No more," he said. His voice was surprisingly soft and gentle, but every man could hear him clearly, even over the din of the rain and the waves and the thunder. Everything about the pirate captain confused Arthur further. This was not what he pictured when he heard the words Dread Pirate. "We surrender, Captain."

The pirates hung their heads, but none looked shocked at their captain's proclamation.

Arthur was enraged.

"You have not been defeated! You can still fight back! You draw us out here and let men on both sides die and then you just give up?! Where is your pride as a captain?! WHERE IS YOUR HONOR?!" Arthur stomped up to the captain and grabbed him by the front of his coat. He was several inches taller than the pirate and it made him loosen his grip, but only slightly. The Black Dragon looked up into Arthur's wrathful eyes, pleading and sad. Raindrops fell on his cheeks, creating the illusion of tears pouring from the pirate's eyes. He was surprisingly light and frail, and he looked so pitiful that Arthur loosened his grip on the man, surprising himself and his crew.

"I would have stopped it earlier, but..." Emrys said, looking away. He looked furious, but not with anyone in particular. Arthur would have said the pirate seemed to be angry with himself. Then he let the man go and stepped back.

"You, Dread Pirate Emrys, and your men are charged with piracy, including thievery, murder, disruption of the peace, and destruction of public and private properties. You will be taken back to England to be properly charged, tried, and, in all likelihood, jailed." Emrys hung his head and murmured something that no one seemed to hear, although Arthur caught most of it.

"I never meant to for anyone to die..."

Before Arthur could respond, someone pushed through the crowd, calling out to the pirate captain. It was the woman from before.

"Captain, please, you cannot just give up like this!" the woman cried.

"Enough, Guinevere, I will not have any more fighting," Emrys replied, firmly but without malice or anger.

"But-"

"I said enough!" the Dread Pirate's eyes flashed a bright gold color and the wind became fiercer, whipping around the crowd of pirates and navy sailors. When his eyes returned to their normal blue, Emrys looked down at his feet, an angry flush coloring his cheeks. The storm around them seemed to start fading. The rain slowed to a halt and the clouds overhead dissolved into a fine mist. Even the waters beneath the ship calmed and turned from a dull grey to a striking blue. Sunlight shone down in beams between clouds before the clouds were gone entirely and the sun once again lit up the world. Arthur's men marveled at the sudden disappearance of the storm, but Emrys's men looked unsurprised. Arthur only stared at the pirate captain.

Then Captain Pendragon called out for Percival, who stepped forward silently. "Bind the Black Dragon's hands together, along with those any of his men who will not cooperate." Percival nodded, leading the pirate across the planks to the Albion and tying a rope tight around his wrists. Arthur turned back to the crowd and stood tall, hands on his hips. He was the embodiment of leadership. "To the Black Dragon's men: you will be given two choices. The first: join our crew and work with us. Those of you who join the Royal Navy will be granted pardons for your crimes. The second: join your captain in his binding and face your punishment when we return to England."

No one moved, except Guinevere. The woman, dressed as the men in breeches and a loose linen shirt, her hair tied up and pinned against her head, stepped in front of Arthur. "I will join my captain, if you don't mind," she said, a stubborn tone in her voice and her head held high. She then pushed past the navy captain and escorted herself to the Albion where Percival began tying her wrists together as well. No one stopped her. No one accompanied her. Arthur made a mental note not to get on her bad side in the near future. She was stronger than any woman he had ever known, and it frightened him a bit. He assumed her to be the Dread Pirate Emrys's first mate, and rightfully so. She made a fierce enemy.

"Now then, get to work!" Arthur ordered, and the men from both sides joined together in a patchwork mass of uniform and disorder.

Percival approached the captain, the two prisoners behind him. They were led by ropes held in Percival's hand, like a pair of earthbound balloons. "Captain, she has taken on too much water. We cannot go anywhere until the hull is repaired and the water is removed."

Arthur cursed. "Bring her closer to shore and drop the anchor. How long will repairs take?"

"The builders estimate about a week, Sir. Maybe more. We are lucky to have enough spare boards for the necessary repairs."

Arthur cursed again. "Then we will have to take the men to the island and see what we can find. Our food and water stores are running low and were not meant to support most of two ships worth of crew. We were to make a stop back at Puerto Rico to resupply before our trip back to England..." Arthur sighed and rubbed his temples. The last thing he wanted to do was remain in this cursed bay and live off its land, but he would do what he had to. "I will keep watch over the prisoners," Arthur grumbled, taking their lead ropes, "and you, Mister Percival, will organize the men into groups to take trips in the dinghies over to the beach. We will set up camp there until the Albion can be repaired." Percival nodded and turned to the chaos of men running about on the decks of the Albion, waiting for orders. Percival obliged, quickly getting the crew in order.

HMS Albion had two dinghies. Each one held twenty men at maximum capacity, so it would take quite a while to get the more than three-hundred combined men of the Albion and the Kilgharrah, as well as what supplies were left on both ships, over to the beach. Arthur and his prisoners were some of the first to make the crossing, which went smoothly and quickly due to the present calm of the waters.

Once they arrived at the beach, Arthur tied the leads of the prisoners around a tree. Guinevere was furious, yelling the whole time about being treated like cattle. Emrys remained silent and grim, not meeting anyone's eyes. When that was done, Gwaine approached the navy captain.

"Thank god you are alive, Gwaine," Arthur exclaimed, embracing the man briefly.

Gwaine punched him in the arm. "You cannot get rid of me that easily, Sir." Gwaine and Arthur both grinned.

"What of the others? Lancelot? Elyan?" Arthur continued. The smile slipped from Gwaine's face. Arthur's followed quickly.

"Elyan and Leon are dead. Lancelot is gravely wounded. The ship's doctor is doing what he can to save him, but..." Gwaine's voice dropped off.

"Damn," Arthur whispered.

"Damn," he repeated, louder.

The sudden urge to hurt the pirate captain clouded Arthur's judgment. Those men were his friends, barely more than boys. Arthur stormed over to Emrys with the full intention of hurting the man as much as possible. Guinevere's protests were drowned out by the ringing in Arthur's ears and the low growl in his throat that he did not realize he was emitting. As he grabbed the collar of Emrys's shirt and drew back his fist, Arthur made the mistake of looking into the boy's eyes. The pirate did not flinch. He did not cower. He anticipated the hit, feeling deeply that he deserved whatever pain he was about to receive. This shocked Arthur out of his rage, at which point Guinevere's protests, along with the encouraging yells of Arthur's own men, washed in.

Arthur let go of the pirate for a second time, letting his arms drop to his sides. His eyes did not break contact with the pirate's, even as Percival sternly ordered the men to carry on with their duties. A murmur of disappointment arose from the crew, but they dispersed until only Arthur and Emrys were left, as well as an uneasy Guinevere.

Arthur stepped forward until he was almost touching the pirate. Guinevere jolted towards them, but the sudden appearance of Gwaine's hand on her shoulder kept her back.

"My crew...some of my best friends are dead. Because of you," Arthur said in a low voice.

"I...I am sorry..." Emrys broke the eye contact between them, and Arthur sensed grief and sorrow coming from the young pirate, though he did not know how he felt it.

"'Sorry' will not bring them back."

"I know."

Arthur didn't understand the pain Emrys seemed to be feeling. The men were not his to mourn. Arthur was not keen to share his loss with an enemy that didn't know anything about him or his deceased friends. A halfhearted anger welled in him again, but this time it was colored heavily by his melancholy. He raised his hand, sending Guinevere jolting forward again, but this time he merely set it on Emrys's shoulder. He squeezed, just tight enough to see the pirate wince in pain, but not more than that. The men who saw the action were confused, but did not question the navy captain.

* * *

Later that night, when a camp the size of a small village had been set up on the beach, Arthur sulked in his tent. He was not wont to sulking, but this time he felt it was warranted. He was curled up on a bed of palm leaves and covered with canvas, praying that none of his men would enter the tent and find him in such a state.

So, of course, Percival opened the tent flap and stepped inside.

"You must eat something, Captain," the large man said, holding out a pair of green fruits. Arthur sat up with a sigh. "One is a little sour, and the other is somewhat strange, but both are sweet and quite good. Our scavenging party brought quite a few of them back, among other, stranger fruits. As well as some fish."

Arthur picked up the smaller fruit. "I am not hungry..." he mumbled, but he bit into it anyway. He didn't care much for the thin skin, but the pink flesh of the fruit he thought he could get used to. An image of the skinny pirate captain flashed in Arthur's mind. With as much indifference as he could muster, he asked, "Have the prisoners eaten?"

"Yes, Captain. Though that boy looks like he could stand to eat more than he does. I should mention they are also being carefully guarded."

Arthur nodded. "I may check in on them later."

"Very good, Sir. The prisoners are in the next tent over, in case you do."

"Thank you, Percival." Percival bowed slightly and exited the tent. His concern for the captain wasn't evident on his face, but his actions betrayed him. He had not seen the captain sulk this way since his mother died years ago. Percival was not a man of many words, and he felt that comforting the captain was beyond his ability, but he had done what he could to relieve some strain in the grieving man. And in his tent, Arthur silently appreciated the gesture.

A while later, when much of the camp was sleeping, bellies somewhat full from a meal of roasted fish and wild fruits, Arthur left his tent. He went to check on the prisoners. He didn't know why he felt such a strong urge to see the pirate captain, but he knew he needed to. His emotions about the pirate had conflicted, storming over his mind, for the last several hours, after the initial pain of loss had passed and the dull heartache for his friends set in.

As he opened the tent flap, he noticed immediately that the sentry was sleeping soundly and that the Black Dragon was gone. Only the pirate's hat, coat, and boots remained. Guinevere was still in the tent, sleeping peacefully on the soft sand of the beach. Arthur whispered a curse and exited the tent. In his peripheral vision, he saw a shadow enter the jungle at the end of the beach opposite the water. Rather than raising an alarm, Arthur took off after the shadow himself, following the sounds of rustling leaves and snapping twigs deep into the jungle. He was sure it was Emrys, but he had no idea where the pirate intended to go. There was no escape in the jungle. Both ships were still in the Devil's Bay behind him.

Arthur ran even when he couldn't see the shadow anymore. It almost didn't matter. The release of pent up energy sent a thrill through Arthur's body, and he was grateful for the chance to expel it. He also ran because, if it was indeed the Dread Pirate, he needed the man to answer some questions. Questions Arthur didn't yet know himself.

Through a distant opening in the leaves, Arthur saw a clearing. He slowed as he approached it. Peeking from behind a massive leaf, he saw a crystal clear lake in the center of the clearing, reflecting the moon in its still waters. It was as though there was a second moon, a second world one could reach by jumping into the water. Arthur marveled at the beauty before turning his attention to the shadow as the lake's edge.

As he thought, the shadow had been the pirate captain. Emrys's mouth moved as though he was talking to someone, but Arthur could see no one. As he stepped out from behind the leaf, he could have sworn he saw faces in the water. _Must be my imagination, trick of the light._

"I heard you, you know."

It was like a spell had been broken, Arthur's call in the silence. Emrys, startled, fell face first into the water. A gentle ripple echoed the splash throughout the lake. Arthur felt a faint sadness at the disturbance, but it passed as the lake regained its mirror-like stillness. He didn't move as Emrys dragged himself out of the water and began wringing out his clothes.

"What?"

"I said, 'I heard you,'" Arthur repeated. He stared coldly at the boy, who looked even smaller in his sopping clothes without a storm raging around him. "Back on the ship, I heard you. You said you did not mean to kill anyone."

"I did _not _say I did not mean to kill anyone. I have _never_ killed anyone," Emrys said, an angry passion filling his voice. It surprised Arthur. "I said I never meant for anyone to die. And that is the truth." His eyes drilled into Arthur's own, daring the navy captain to challenge him.

Arthur took up the challenge, approaching the pirate until they stood face to face. "Then why do so many people lie dead? Why are some of my closest friends at the bottom of the ocean?"

Emrys faltered. His gaze dropped and the grim expression that had taken near permanent residence on the man's face returned. There was no more fire in him. "I said I was sorry. And I truly am. It was never meant to happen this way. Why do you think I have avoided fighting navy ships until now? It is certainly not because I did not think I could win."

"And what about the destruction and pillaging you have done until now? What about the innocent civilians that you killed?" A spark was ignited in Arthur. He didn't believe what the pirate said at all.

"They were never meant to die either. No one was ever meant to die!" Emrys shouted. The noise set off a rustling of disturbed animals in the greenery around them. The two returned to hushed tones.

"If you did not want anyone to die, then why the hell did you become a pirate?" Arthur scoffed.

"Because I knew if I did not do something, more people would end up dead..." Emrys replied.


	4. The Sunrise Over the Ocean

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, only the AU is mine. Arthur, Merlin, Gwen, and everyone else belong to the BBC.

Chapter 4 - The Sunrise Over the Ocean

The pirate captain was obviously upset. A conflict was taking place within him over whether or not to say more.

"What do you mean 'more people would end up dead?" Arthur asked, shocked and thoroughly confused. The answer didn't make much sense. "Is someone threatening you?" The thought that someone would try to control such a gentle person by such treacherous means infuriated Arthur.

"No, it...it is not like that..."

Arthur relaxed, but then a new wave of suspicion rolled over him. He wished Emrys would just tell him what was going on.

"Then what-"

"I grew up on the streets," Emrys exclaimed. Arthur's eyes widened at the sudden confession. He steeled himself, preparing for the coming story that was obvious to make him pity the pirate even more. Arthur promised himself he wouldn't let the pirate get off easy just because of a tragic childhood. He simply wouldn't. He kept silent as Emrys continued.

"When I was very young, my father passed away. He succumbed to a mysterious illness that no doctor seemed to have seen or heard of before. My mother died of the same sickness soon after. With no other family to go to, I was thrust into the London streets. The only way for orphaned street children to survive was to join a street gang. So I did. All around me I watched children succumb to the illness that took my parents. So I resolved to find a cure..." Emrys began to fidget. He was clearly uncomfortable revealing so much about himself, but once the words started coming, they wouldn't stop. And in order for Arthur to understand everything, Emrys was going to have to continue.

Arthur nearly put his hand on the pirate's shoulder, a reaction that had become almost automatic as a comforting gesture on the Albion. He stopped himself just in time and reminded himself that he wasn't to get sucked in. This could all be a lie to save the pirate's skin. But a part of him didn't believe that. He had always thought of the Dread Pirate Emrys as a cold-blooded killer and a violent thief, a villainous force to be destroyed. This didn't correlate with the Dread Pirate that stood before him. The Black Dragon was no dragon; he was a human being.

Arthur realized that he had been staring at Emrys who stared back, though fidgeting. The blank stare had made him reluctant to continue. Arthur shook his head and nodded, signaling to the pirate to continue.

"How much do you know about...about magic?"

Arthur started. His growing recognition of the magic around him had made him sensitive to the word, and to those who used it. He did not understand it, nor know much about it, and so he feared it.

"I learnt of it at Puerto Magia when we stopped at Puerto Rico." The corners of Emrys's mouth turned upwards slightly. The irony of the name was not lost on him. Arthur just raised an eyebrow at the reaction.

"Magic is...well, the easiest way to explain it is that it is the force behind everything. Some places, like this place, Bahia de Diablo," a sudden breeze sent the two shivering, "are magic hotspots. Some people can also be magic hotspots. These people can control the forces of magic..." Emrys seemed reluctant to continue, but he shook out his dark hair and pressed on. "For instance, I myself can bend the forces of magic to my will. That is the origin of the nickname Warlock."

Arthur stepped back, as though preparing for a sudden attack. If Emrys could use magic, and Arthur believed he had seen the man do it before, he didn't need a ship to leave the island. He could destroy all of them, including Arthur, and leave at any moment.

Emrys started reaching out to Arthur, but when the navy captain flinched, he thought better of it and lowered his arm. "I promise I will not hurt you. Like I said, I have never killed anyone. And I never intend to..." Tears welled in the pirate captain's eyes. He had experienced this reaction before, the fear looked at him with when he told them of his abilities. He had known harsh rejections in his past, and he did not take them well. He had even lashed out once, and he winced visibly at the memory. Arthur noticed, and dropped his guard slightly. He didn't want to upset the pirate, mostly in fear of the possible consequences.

"Prove it then. Prove that you have magic. And prove that you will not hurt me."

Emrys thought for a moment. Then and idea lit up in his mind. His eyes flashed. He held out his palm and floating above his hand was a small orb of fire. It flickered and danced, lighting their faces. Arthur was fascinated, but wary.

"Give me your hand and I will prove to you that I will not hurt you," the pirate captain said. Arthur tentatively held his hand out.

Emrys gently held it by the wrist, bringing it closer to the fire. Arthur yelped and leaped back, pulling his hand away.

"You have to trust me or else this will not work," Emrys said, desperation in his voice, eyes begging. He _needed_ Arthur to trust him. Arthur reached his hand back out again. He could deal with a burn. It wasn't the worst pain he had ever endured.

Emrys gently drew Arthur's hand into the fire. Arthur flinched, but he did not pull away. The flames licked at his fingers, pleasantly warm to the touch. The fire snaking around his fingers soothed him. Then the orb turned into mouse, running up Arthur's arm and down the front of his coat. The tiny claws tickled through the cloth, and Arthur could feel the gentle heat warming him against the cool air. He grinned at the creature until it disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"So...do you trust me?"

Arthur smothered his grin. "For now."

Emrys smiled brightly. It was infectious. Arthur fought against the tug at the corners of his mouth. He was _not _a child, and he would _not_ grin conspiratorially with this wanted pirate captain.

But he couldn't help it.

Arthur faked clearing his throat. "So what does magic have to do with your search for the cure for this mysterious disease?"

Emrys's smile faded. He did not look at Arthur as he spoke. "I heard a rumor that this...illness was magical in nature. And things created by magic can only be destroyed by magic. So as soon as I was old enough, I became the assistant of a fisherman. I figured traveling the seas would give me access to far spread rumors, ones I could follow to locate a cure. But our boat was caught by a pirate sailing on the Kilgharrah. He was an old and rather unsuccessful pirate, but he managed to capture small merchant vessels and fishing boats, and he treated his prisoners the way all pirates do: enslaving them or killing them. I used a bit of magic to help me rise in the ranks on his ship, and after just a few months of gentle magical persuasion and hard work, I became the first mate. Soon after that, I incited a rebellion against the pirate captain, and the crew mutinied, naming me captain in his place. I told them what I was after. I showed them my magic. And they feared it. They called me the Black Dragon, Warlock, and Dread Pirate. I did not want to be a pirate captain, but I had seen the profits that could be made. And I needed the money desperately, both for my own search, as well as...Well, growing up on the streets, you see a lot of people, especially children, going without food. Those at orphanages barely fared any better. So whenever we gathered some loot from pirating, I would always make sure to take some to the orphanages and the street kids back in London. I told my men not to hurt or kill anyone, but they are pirates, and I never had the heart to punish them...they respect me, but they do not fear me. Only my magic do they fear. And I do not use it to hurt others." Emrys looked up at Arthur to find him bemused and somewhat lost. Emrys had spoken faster and faster as time drew on, and his thoughts had grown scattered, but he had said everything he had wanted to say.

"I need a moment to think on this..." Arthur said, sitting on the shore of the lake. He sat with the same bemused expression on his face as minutes dragged by.

"I cannot simply let you go. You know that. I'll be named a traitor." Realizing what Arthur had said, Emrys smiled broadly.

"So you believe me!" The pirate's eyes shone with unshed tears of relief.

"Well, I suppose, but...what can I do..." Arthur silently cursed the pirate. He had not meant to get so emotionally evolved with the pirate, but he had left him no choice. And knowing what he knew now, Arthur could not simply send this frail young man to his death on the London gallows. Arthur understood why the pirates had followed Emrys so earnestly. His gentle demeanor endeared him to others. And he was true to himself, earning the crew's respect. His magic earned their fear. He made the perfect captain in a completely unexpected way.

Emrys sat down on the sand beside Arthur. The two men sat in thoughtful silence.

"How about this, Dread Pirate Emrys. We will repair both the Albion and the Kilgharrah and when both ships are finished with their repairs, I will tell you then what your fate is to be." Emrys nodded seriously. The men shook on the deal. Then Emrys smiled.

"You do not have to call me by my surname."

"What?"

"Emrys. It is the name of my family. You can call me by my given name: Merlin."

"Right, well, _Merlin._ We should be getting back." They stood. It was then that Arthur noticed Merlin's bare feet. The pirate wiggled his toes. They stung from tiny scrapes and cuts from running in the jungle. Arthur noticed traces of blood. He also noticed Merlin's thin arms wrapped tight around his body, and his shivering. He quickly came up with the best solution he could think of.

Arthur took off his coat and thrust it at the boy. Merlin looked surprised, but he took the coat. "Thank you, Captain Pendragon." This time it was Arthur's turn to look surprised.

"Call me Arthur. Except around my men, then call me Captain Pendragon." Merlin chuckled. Arthur smiled a bit. Then he pointed at the pirate's scraped and bloodied feet.

"Oh, I am fine. I do not need my boots, not really," the boy insisted.

Arthur kneeled with his back facing the pirate. "Put your arms around my neck."

A faint blush colored Merlin's cheeks.

"Do it or else I will carry you over my shoulder."

His cheeks flushed further as Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur's strong neck. The navy captain was built solidly, but also gracefully. And Merlin had not failed to notice. Arthur stood as Merlin wrapped his legs around the blond man's middle. The pirate caught a faint whiff of the other man's hair as it brushed against his face. Merlin thought it smelled like the ocean, a scent he had grown fond of.

A set of female faces giggled and watched from the lake as the men left for the campsite.

* * *

When the two men returned to the camp, Merlin was fast asleep on Arthur's back. The sleeping sentry, now wide awake, was waiting for them, looking distraught.

"Captain! I do not know what happened! I was wide awake and then the next thing I knew, the prisoner was gone and it was several hours later! I went to get you, but you had disappeared as well!" Arthur smirked at Merlin's obvious usage of sleeping magic. The sentry paled when he saw the pirate on Arthur's back.

"Do not worry, I have retrieved the criminal," Arthur said somewhat mockingly. He was beginning to realize that this man was no more a criminal than he himself was. He was a criminal of circumstance only. The sentry followed Arthur into the prisoners' tent. Guinevere was still sleeping soundly, as though nothing had happened. Arthur put Merlin down gently leaving his coat around the pirate's bony shoulders. He smirked at the boy's sleeping form; Merlin looked even more harmless when sleeping.

When the sentry moved to bind Merlin's hands, Arthur stopped him. "He will not be needing that. Remove the woman's as well." The guard looked puzzled, but did not object. Arthur looked back down at the sleeping boy before leaving the tent, adding, "Make sure he eats when he wakes up."

* * *

The next day passed without incident. The men had formed groups. Those who knew how to repair ships took the dinghies out to the Albion and the Kilgharrah in the mornings, returning as the sun set. When Captain Pendragon had told Percival to have the builders restore the Kilgharrah as well, Percival hadn't been surprised. "She is a fine prize to take back the Royal Navy."

Arthur nodded, as though that were indeed the reason for her repairs.

Other men had formed teams to gather food to bring back to the camp. Some had taken to fishing in various places around the island, while others collected fruits. Still more hunted for birds, and a few men took empty water barrels to the freshwater lake to fill them. The island seemed to hold enough resources to feed every person to satiation for at least a while. For this, Arthur and his men were thankful.

The navy captain visited his prisoners throughout the day. With a slight coloring of his cheeks, Arthur retrieved his coat from the pirate captain. He paid special attention to Merlin, making sure the ate as much as he could. Merlin had told Guinevere what had happened, and she was surprised that Arthur had believed him so quickly.

"I did not use magic, Gwen," Merlin whispered to her, "he would have felt it. I do not know how, but he knows the feeling of magic. He has probably met a magical person before."

"You should not be so quick to trust him, Merlin. He could still take you back and turn you in."

"Well, I trust him, Gwen. He will help me. I know he will," Merlin breathed.

"If he does not, I will have his head. You have a noble goal and a noble heart, Merlin." The girl smiled at him.

Arthur stood silently just outside the tent. He had heard every word, and he was beginning to hope that he would choose to help Merlin. The man was no pirate at heart. He was a saint.

* * *

The next morning, Lancelot awoke.

The doctor had worked tirelessly since the battle to revive the wounded sailors, but for Lancelot nothing could be done. He had done all he could and all that was left was to wait. When Lancelot had awakened that morning, a messenger was sent to the captain's tent. The man burst in, panting heavily. Arthur shot up, startled from his sleep. The man explained breathlessly what had happened. Arthur raced after the man back to the surgeon's tent. Inside, Lancelot sat up, talking in a soft voice to the doctor.

Arthur grinned. "Lancelot, it is good to have you back." He embraced the man briefly, as he had with Gwaine before.

"I am glad to be back, Sir. They thought I was as good as gone already." Lancelot smiled weakly, the short beard an odd sight on his face.

"Rest well and I am sure you will be back at your station in no time." And with that, Arthur left the tent. He headed to check on the prisoners. Inside, he found Merlin smirking straight at him.

"I heard your friend is feeling quite a bit better. Survived a surely lethal wound. His powers of recovery are remarkable." Arthur got the peculiar feeling that no one had told Merlin about Lancelot's recovery. Gwen was smirking beside him as well. Arthur narrowed his eyes and indicated to Merlin to leave the tent with him, which the prisoners were allowed to do freely as long as they were supervised. Arthur no longer saw purpose in keeping them heavily bound and guarded.

When they were well away from the vision and hearing of those in the camp, Arthur leaned in close and whispered, "Did you use your magic to help Lancelot recover?

Merlin merely nodded. He was uncertain as to Arthur's reaction at his unauthorized use of magic, and he was frightened of what Arthur might do.

The navy captain put his hands on Merlin's shoulders and gently rested his forehead against the boy's, closing his eyes. "Thank you," he breathed.

The action surprised Merlin, but did not displease him. He even leaned into the touch ever so slightly. Closing his own eyes, Merlin breathed an even softer, "This is what I use my magic for."

And Arthur believed him, truly and completely.


	5. Taking Great Care

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, only the AU is mine. Arthur, Merlin, Gwen, and everyone else belong to the BBC.

Author's Note: Some Lancelot/Guinevere in this chapter, but mostly as a background coupling. And poor Guinevere has been bored out of her mind in that tent/wandering around the camp while Merlin is out with Arthur.

Chapter 5 - Taking Great Care

From that moment on, Merlin rarely left Arthur's side. He even accompanied the navy captain to his tent that night, leaving only when they tired of talking so that they could sleep. Gwen was still awake when the pirate arrived in the prisoners' tent, though the sentry was fast asleep. Supervision of the two had grown lax as Captain Pendragon's friendliness with the prisoners grew. The sentries often treated the pirates with disdain, and sometimes with insults or even violence, but never in front of their captain.

"I do not think you see what is happening here, Merlin, but I do," Guinevere said with a grin.

"As usual, Gwen, I have no idea what you are talking about," said Merlin, sitting down beside her. He shook his head as if to emphasize his point.

"Oh, but I think you do." Gwen raised her eyebrows as though waiting for Merlin to tell her what is was that he did not know.

"Alright, what is it?" Merlin was beginning to lose his patience with the woman.

"You fancy the captain!" Guinevere whispered excitedly into his ear. Merlin turned to stare at her, shocked. A redness crept over his cheeks, up his ears, and down his neck.

"You have gone _mad, _Guinevere!" Merlin whispered sharply.

"But look at you blush," Gwen said, giggling.

"I am having none of this. Go to sleep, Gwen."

Guinevere pouted playfully, but heeded his command.

* * *

The next morning Arthur went to visit Lancelot in the medical tent. He was just waking up as Arthur entered. The doctor approached Arthur before he could reach the man.

"Captain, that man should have died from his wounds. His recovery is miraculous. I do not know what to make of it beyond to say there is a guardian angel looking over him."

Arthur smiled. He thought about the young man sleeping in the prisoners' tent. Merlin would have liked to hear someone call him a guardian angel. "Well then he is a very lucky man, and you are a very lucky doctor. Now if you will excuse me, I would like to speak to my friend." Arthur stepped past the pale doctor and went to meet Lancelot.

The man was full of vitality. "Arthur, I feel incredible! I have never felt so alive! I must get out of this tent, please allow me to accompany you wherever you are going today. I have a crying need to stretch my legs."

Arthur looked toward the doctor who nodded hesitantly. He and Lancelot grinned at each other. "I was thinking of going with the fishing crew today to test my hand at it. Think you are up to it?"

Lancelot jumped off the bed and was perfectly steady as he made his way to the entrance of the tent. He looked like a confined stallion that had just been set free, mane and all.

"Go shave that beard and then meet me at the prisoners' tent. You look like a rat has taken up residence on your chin," Arthur chuckled.

"Absolutely, Captain!" Lancelot replied, exiting the tent.

Arthur silently blessed Merlin for not living up to the rumors that surrounded the Dread Pirate Emrys. Had he been any other Dread Pirate, Lancelot would be dead, along with who knows how many others. As it was, Arthur was shocked to find he had developed a sort of fondness for the dark-haired boy. He couldn't help but smile at Merlin's gentle and trusting nature. He was like a child, seeing the world as magnificent and blaming only himself when things went wrong.

When he entered the tent, both of the prisoners were still sleeping, as was the sentry. Arthur rolled his eyes at the guard as he passed. He knelt beside Merlin. A long lock of shiny black hair had fallen across the pirate's forehead. An impulse rose in Arthur to brush the hair back. He reasoned that with everyone sleeping, no one would notice the gesture, and Merlin would never know it had happened. So he reached out and gently lifted the lock, tucking it softly behind the boy's ear. When Merlin started stirring, Arthur scrambled back, blushing furiously. He rose to his feet as Merlin's eyes fluttered open. A stray thought leapt to the front of Arthur's mind, a thought about how charming Merlin looked while he was sleepy, rubbing his eyes with his fists, hair playfully wild.

Arthur pushed the thought away violently.

"Arthur, what are you doing here?" Merlin mumbled. "So early..."

"It is well into morning, Merlin. If you do not wish to accompany me today I can just go myself."

At this, Merlin perked up. He tried to find any excuse he could to stay around Arthur. The previous night's brief conversation with Guinevere resurfaced in his mind, and he looked at his feet as he stood, blushing. Obviously the feelings he was beginning to hold for the navy captain were those of friendship and nothing more.

Obviously.

"What is wrong with you this morning? Are you ill?" A brief feeling of concern settled in Arthur's stomach.

"No! I mean, I am just tired. That is all. I did _just _wake up a moment ago. How are we entertaining ourselves today, then?" Merlin was a terrible liar.

"I thought I would try my hand at fishing with one of the food gathering groups. Are you well enough to join me?" Arthur asked tentatively. He did not want to risk sickness in a man that looked so malnourished. Merlin nodded vigorously. It set Arthur's mind at ease just a bit. He would make sure to keep a careful eye on the boy.

At that moment, two things happened. The first was that Guinevere woke up. She sat up, brushing the sand from her clothes and shaking it from her hair, that she now wore loose down her back. The second was that Lancelot entered the tent, face clean and smooth. The moment that Lancelot laid eyes on the woman, he stood transfixed at the tent flap. At first it was because he thought, from his brief vision of the scene, that he was intruding on a lady's privacy. When he realized that he wasn't, Lancelot was frozen by Guinevere's beauty. He didn't think that ladies that beautiful existed, and he sidled up to Arthur's side, staring at the woman unfalteringly.

Arthur raised a brow at Lancelot's actions. "Lancelot, this is the infamous Dread Pirate Emrys." Lancelot gave a concise, inquisitive nod to Merlin before returning his gaze to Gwen. Arthur was disappointed. He was hoping for more of a reaction. "And this - if you can still hear me, Lancelot - is his first mate, Guinevere."

"I am delighted to meet you, beautiful lady," Lancelot said, kissing her hand while she blushed. Arthur rolled his eyes, and Merlin grinned. Guinevere herself looked taken by the man, examining Lancelot as he had her.

"I suppose you would rather accompany the lady than join me today?" Arthur said mockingly. Lancelot turned to look at him with begging eyes, silently asking permission. Arthur sighed and went to exit the tent, Merlin close behind him. "Suit yourself," he called back to Lancelot, who didn't answer.

"Fishing, then? Never been fishing," Merlin said as the two men walked in the direction of the fishing site.

"I figured that you might be proficient at it, Mister Magic."

Merlin made a displeased face. "Please do not call me that."

Arthur laughed at Merlin's wrinkled nose and his furrowed brows. "Alright, alright."

"Do not expect me to use magic in front of your men just to catch some fish."

"At the rate they have been catching, I suspect your magical assistance will not be required."

When they arrived at the fishing site, a man approached them with a pair of wooden spears. He cast a suspicious eye at Merlin, but Arthur glared the man into submission. The man silently handed the spears to Arthur and then saluted and returned to his station.

"How primitive," Arthur said, handing one of the sticks to Merlin.

"I think this is going to be loads of fun," Merlin replied.

The two headed into the water, a fair distance away from the other men. Arthur aimed at a small fish and thrust his spear at the water, missing the fish completely. Merlin laughed.

"You give it a try then, it is much harder than it looks!" Arthur said, face red from embarrassment.

"I will, and I will succeed," Merlin retorted, sticking his tongue out. The challenge quickly turned into a competition. The men attempted to catch several more fish of varying sizes and colors for the next hour or so.

Neither caught a single thing.

"How does anyone catch anything like this!" Arthur called out, exasperated.

"I have no idea." Merlin, frustrated, held his hand out to the water and cast a simple spell. His eyes flashed for a moment, alarming Arthur.

"What are you doing?!" Arthur hissed.

"Just a simple spell to draw more sea creatures closer to us! This will increase our chances of catching something..."

"Be more careful, Merlin, we do not want any of my men finding out about your magic! They already have reason enough to want you dead."

Merlin hung his head. "I did not mean to cause trouble."

Arthur relented. "And you did not, not really. Let us continue fishing and see if that spell of yours worked." At that, Merlin brightened up.

While it did seem that more fish had swarmed around them, neither Merlin nor Arthur caught anything. They stood in the fading sunlight, dripping wet and discouraged.

"Perhaps we should call it a day and head back to camp..." Merlin said, defeated. He sounded quite tired.

Arthur let out a frustrated grunt. "Maybe so..."

Then, Arthur spotted something that didn't look quite like a fish in the water. "Merlin, what is that, by your feet-"

The navy captain was interrupted by a scream of pain. Merlin collapsed into the shallow water, shrieking. A large box-shaped jellyfish had wrapped its long tentacles around the pirate's leg. The cries brought various men running. Arthur yelled at them to get the creature off of the boy as he held Merlin's upper body above water. Merlin's desperate thrashing was making this difficult to do.

Screaming pain shot up Merlin's body from his leg. He had never felt such intense and absolute _agony_. The stabbing pain of hunger was a scrape of the knee in comparison to the burning fire that was the only thing he was currently capable of feeling. His eyes were squeezed shut, as though being unable to see the creature would make the pain it inflicted disappear. But everything Merlin did seemed to amplify the pain even more. It was as though hot metal was being pressed against his skin. The pirate captain didn't know how much longer he could endure it.

As the men pulled the jellyfish off Merlin's leg and hurtled it as far into the water as they could without touching it, Arthur picked up Merlin in his arms. Soft translucent tentacles were still stuck to Merlin's right leg and bare foot. Arthur ran as fast as he could, Merlin's crying subdued to a horrible low moan, to the doctor's tent where he had just been that morning celebrating the revival of another friend.

He raced through the camp, drawing everyone's attention, including that of Guinevere and Lancelot. They had been deeply involved in conversation, to the exclusion of everything. Gwen immediately knew the cries of her captain and she ran with Lancelot to find the two captains, following as Arthur brought Merlin into the doctor's tent and laid him out on a cot. The doctor ran over, and Lancelot and Gwen joined the navy captain around a groaning and softly crying Merlin.

"What can we do, doctor?" Arthur asked.

"I will need vinegar to keep the poison from spreading and to be able to remove the tentacles. At the word vinegar, Lancelot took off. There was a small store of supplies left from the ships, and vinegar was among those things. Guinevere went to fetch some clean, cold water and a cloth. The doctor went to retrieve a pair of forceps from his tools. Arthur stayed at Merlin's side. Merlin, in his pain-induced stupor, found Arthur's hand with his own. Arthur started at the contact, but did not let go. He squeezed Merlin's hand, letting the pirate know he was there. Merlin squeezed back weakly.

Lancelot came running in with a bottle of vinegar and shoved it at the doctor. Gwen placed a cold wet cloth against Merlin's burning forehead. The doctor pulled the cork of the vinegar bottle out with his teeth and emptied its contents over Merlin's leg.

"Get more," the doctor ordered, and Lancelot was out in a flash.

Then the man began using the forceps to carefully remove the long tentacles from Merlin's skin and place them on a tray. Merlin cried out, clasping Arthur's hand tightly. Arthur looked on with a grim expression. He felt so useless. Everyone was rushing around and doing something, and all he could do was stand there. There was nothing he could do to keep Merlin alive.

Merlin's voice became hoarse from screaming. His cries turned into cracked groans. Thick red welts were left on his leg where the tentacles had been. Lancelot rushed back in with two more bottles of vinegar, and the doctor took them, pouring them slowly and gently over Merlin's leg. After that, the three people stood around the cot with a fitfully sleeping Merlin.

"All we can do now is wait, we have done all we can..." the doctor mumbled.

Lancelot put a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "He will be all right, Arthur. I was supposed to die, but I survived. There is magic in this place."

_ Magic._

Arthur put his faith in the magic of the Devil's Bay and Merlin's own magic. He hoped that the place would heal the pirate enough for him to use magic to heal himself.

He hoped that Merlin would survive.

Lancelot and Guinevere left together. Arthur did not watch them go. The doctor brought a wooden stool over for his captain to sit on. And Arthur sat there for the rest of the night.

When Percival came the next morning to check on the captain and to see if there was anything he could do, Arthur and Merlin were both sleeping peacefully. Arthur was leaning with his head on the cot, and his left hand firmly grasped Merlin's right.

All that day, Arthur was in and out of the doctor's tent. He spent most of the day at Merlin's bedside, barely eating or drinking. Merlin did not wake up.

* * *

The morning after, Arthur awoke to the sensation of someone stroking his hair. He lifted his head drowsily to find that it was Merlin.

"You are awake." Arthur said.

"I am. I have been for a little while now. I did not want to wake you, you looked so calm while you were sleeping." Merlin replied with a soft smile.

Suddenly remembering his place, Arthur shot upright and drew his hand from Merlin's. The pirate's smile faded.

"Are you going to be all right?" Arthur asked with flushed cheeks.

"Yes."

"Did you use...magic?" Arthur whispered.

"Once the initial shock of the poison was out of my system and I had some control over my body, yes."

Arthur nodded. He heaved a great sigh. Merlin was a complete wreck. He had dark circles under his sunken eyes. The huge red welts from the tentacles had not faded at all. The pirate looked even thinner than usual. _And he really needs a haircut, _Arthur thought.

"Well, I am glad you are all right, Merlin." Arthur stood to leave.

"Do...Do you have to go?" Merlin said.

"I am sure there are duties for me to attend to. And anyway, how are you going to find that cure if you cannot even take care of yourself?"Arthur asked, smiling sadly at the pirate.

"I will because I have to, whether or not I can take care of myself. Which I can, actually, one incident with a jellyfish does not change that!

Arthur scoffed. "I guess I will have to help you," he whispered as he left the tent.


	6. A Pirate's Life For Me

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, only the AU is mine. Arthur, Merlin, Gwen, and everyone else belong to the BBC.

Author's note: Wow this chapter was long, but jeez I had so much fun writing it. I didn't know what to do with the end so it just digressed into fluff. On another note, thanks to those of you who have reviewed, followed, and favorited already! I love hearing what you guys think about my work, so please let me know! Thanks much and enjoy!

Thanks to blaerofvalenwood for teaching me how to use page breaks, geheheheh~

Chapter 6 - A Pirate's Life For Me

The day after the incident with the jellyfish, the ships were ready for sailing.

The builders had worked tirelessly to repair the Albion, and somewhat less tirelessly on the Kilgharrah. The pirate ship had a spattering of holes in the hull from cannon fire, but none so gaping as the one in the side of the Albion. It did, however, need a new mizzenmast, as the old one had been taken down in the battle and then had been cut loose from the ship later.

Percival went to fetch Arthur, who was still in the medical tent keeping watch over Merlin as he recovered. Arthur, who had been watching Merlin sleep, followed Percival out of the tent to speak with him. Percival told him about the state of the repairs.

"The ships are just about ready to sail, Captain. We will have to stop in Puerto Magia to get the materials for a new mizzenmast for the Kilgharrah when we restock for the trip to England. After that we can take the pirates back to London."

Arthur grimaced. He was no longer sure he wanted to turn the pirates in. In the back of his mind he had already decided to assist Merlin in his quest.

"Percival, you have been a good friend to me for a long time. You know I would not make any decisions without careful consideration. And you know that I do not typically act on emotional impulses," Arthur began. Percival nodded, wondering where this conversation was going. "I found out the motivations behind the Black Dragon's actions. He is searching for a cure for an ailment that took his parents and many friends when he was younger. He is on a noble quest, Percival, and I cannot forsake him for it."

"You intend to go with him," Percival finished, understanding the direction the captain's speech was headed. Arthur nodded. "You do realize what this decision will mean for you. You will be declared a pirate and a traitor to the crown."

"Yes, Percival. I have thought long and hard about this situation and this is the only decision that I could live with making."

"You understand that I will have to report this to the Royal Navy and Admiral Uther."

Arthur winced at the mention of his father. He nodded, unable to meet Percival's eye.

"Though with the time it will take to resupply at Puerto Magia, along with the time it will take to sail all the way back to England, I cannot imagine the message will reach them very quickly. It could take as many as ten or twelve weeks I imagine." Percival grinned as Arthur whipped his head up to look at him.

"Percival...thank you." The two men shook hands. Arthur reentered the medical tent to tell Merlin about his intentions. He found Merlin lying awake in his cot. The pirate smiled when he saw Arthur approach. Arthur pursed his lips as he sat on the stool beside Merlin.

"You were gone when I woke up-"

"Merlin, you look much too pleased to see me."

"Should I not be?" Merlin looked a bit taken aback. Due to the happenings of the past couple days, Merlin was under the impression that he and Arthur had become friends. The way Arthur was acting now, the pirate began to suspect he had returned with bad news.

"You are like a pining young woman," Arthur said, grinning. Merlin smacked him lightly in the arm, blushing a little.

"I am _not_," Merlin shot back.

"You really are, you are like the women back home who send me love letters," Arthur said, grinning wider.

This caused Merlin's smile to waiver. Of course a charming, handsome young man like Arthur had many women pursuing his affections. Arthur seemed to notice his reaction.

"Stop looking so disappointed, I have never responded favorably to any of them," Arthur said, chuckling.

Merlin blushed furiously. "I was not disappointed, I was feeling for those poor women who have the misfortune of pining after you," he called out.

Arthur chuckled again. "Good, it looks like you are feeling better. I have some news for you."

Merlin paled. "Good news, I hope?"

"Well, depends on good for whom," Arthur replied seriously. His mouth twitched when he tried not to laugh at Merlin's worried face. "I have decided to accompany you on your quest."

The pirate captain's tension melted into a bright smile. He leaned out of the cot and threw his arms around Arthur's neck. Arthur cried out in surprise. The doctor, who was sitting in the corner supposedly sleeping, smirked at the scene.

"Get off of me, you stupid pirate!" Arthur said, trying to push the boy away. Merlin drew himself back, laying back in the cot.

"Thank you, Arthur. Thank you. You do not understand how much this means to me," Merlin murmured, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Do not even think about crying, Merlin," Arthur said, his face burning red.

"I promise I am not going to cry." Merlin grinned. His eyes sparkled with happiness.

"Good. There is only one problem, and that is that the Kilgharrah's mizzenmast has been completely destroyed. We can try to sail her with only two masts, but-"

"I can sail her." Merlin interrupted. He wiggled his fingers. "I have magic, remember?"

Arthur opened his mouth as if to protest, but thought better of it. He imitated Merlin's finger wiggle. "Magic. Right. I expect you will be ready to sail by tomorrow?"

Merlin sat up in the cot, his feet hanging off the edge. This exposed the healing scars left by the jellyfish, angry red lines wrapping around his foot and leg, like cracks in an eggshell. Arthur winced, frowning at the scars.

"I am ready to sail now!" Merlin assured him.

Arthur stood and faced him. He scoffed. "Maybe so, but none of the men are. And I think you still need to rest that leg, Dread Pirate." Merlin wrinkled his nose.

"I am fine, Arthur. Really, I am."

Arthur tucked a piece of hair that had fallen over Merlin's eye behind his ear. Both men blushed and looked away from each other.

"I do not want you hurting yourself because you pushed yourself before you were ready."

Merlin nodded complacently and laid back on the cot. As Arthur turned to leave, Merlin reached out for his hand. Arthur looked back at him and squeezed his hand lightly. Merlin squeezed back. Then, Arthur left the tent.

* * *

Arthur gathered his trusted officers and told them to assemble the men. Arthur and Percival had worked out beforehand what to tell the men so that they would not get suspicious. Arthur stood on a raised hill of sand, somewhat above the sailors. When they had grouped, navy man and pirate alike, Arthur began his speech.

"You may have heard that the ships have been repaired and are ready for sailing. I assure you this is true. On the morrow we are to sail to Puerto Magia, where both ships will refill their stores. Then, the Albion will return to England. The Kilgharrah will remain at Puerto Magia for a few extra days to have a new mizzenmast erected. I will remain behind on the Kilgharrah, ensuring that it will remain on its path. The offer of pardon still stands for the crew of the Kilgharrah, so I expect you will be cooperative. Start packing up camp. We leave early tomorrow. Dismissed."

As soon as the men left to begin packing up camp, Lancelot approached Arthur as he began walking to his own tent. "Captain, Guinevere will be going on the Kilgharrah, will she not?"

"Yes, of course, Mister Lancelot."

"Arthur, you must let me accompany you on the Kilgharrah."

"Lancelot, you really do not know what you are asking. I cannot allow it."

"You do not understand. I am quite in love with her and I will have all the time I can get until she is taken to London to be hanged."

Arthur pondered this a moment. He decided to tell Lancelot about the plan.

"I will not be taking Merlin and Guinevere to London." Lancelot looked shocked. "I have talked it out with both Merlin and Percival. Merlin has a noble goal that I have decided to help him achieve. We will spend the extra days at Puerto Magia while getting the mizzenmast replaced searching for rumors to aid us in our quest. After that, Percival will buy us time on his journey back to London before he reports the news to the Royal Navy and Admiral Uther. At that point, Merlin and I will be well away, seeking out whatever rumors we accumulate at Puerto Magia."

Lancelot stared, incredulous. "You are going to have yourself labeled a pirate and a traitor because you fancy a lad?"

"I do _not_ fancy him, Lance!" A blush stained Arthur's cheeks. Lancelot grinned.

"Worry not, Arthur, I understand. I will come with you if it means that I can be with Guinevere. I will join you in exile and I will help however I can," Lancelot said, before turning away to gather his own things for the trip.

When Arthur realized his implication, Arthur called after him, "_I do not fancy him!_"

A few men turned to stare in amused confusion.

* * *

Later that day, the men loaded their things on the dinghies. They decided that in order to get an early start the next morning, it would be most productive to sleep back on the ships. This was also conducive to getting the crews' sea legs back. Arthur, Merlin, Lancelot, and Guinevere took the dinghy to the Kilgharrah last, when the sun was setting. A few men stayed behind on the island, one dinghy from each ship, in order to catch fish and gather fruits for the coming day's journey. They would need something to keep all the men's hunger at bay for the couple day's trip back to Puerto Magia.

"Gwen sleeps in the mates' quarters by herself typically," Merlin said, broaching the obvious approaching problem.

"I can join her there," Lancelot inserted quickly, looking lovingly at Guinevere who returned the look. As they kissed, Arthur's eye twitched.

"Lancelot, please control yourself while there are other people around," the ex-navy captain ordered.

Lancelot and Gwen separated, blushing. "Apologies, Captain," the man said.

Arthur nodded, blushing slightly.

"There is a large bed in my quarters, if you do not mind sharing, Arthur..." Merlin mumbled. Arthur blushed, setting Gwen and Lancelot grinning.

"That sounds perfect, of course Arthur does not mind sharing," Lancelot said before Arthur could say anything. Arthur merely gaped at him, his blush turning an even deeper shade of red. Merlin laughed nervously.

Gwen faked a yawn. "Well then, I am quite tired. I suppose it is time for me to head to my quarters. Lancelot?" And with that, the two lovers left for the night.

Which left Arthur and Merlin alone together on the main deck of the Kilgharrah staring at a beautiful fiery sunset.

"I think I will...um...wait for the men to return with the food. Yes, that would be best."

Merlin stood, fidgeting. "I suppose I will...wait here as well?" He looked to Arthur as though seeking confirmation.

"All right, then we will wait together," Arthur said, leaning against the railing as though keeping a lookout for the men. The dark painted wood was unfamiliar under his feet, as well as the rocking. The roll of the ship over the ocean felt different when he was aboard the Albion. On the Kilgharrah, it felt foreign and strange. He was sure that after a few months at sea, he would be used to it.

"Arthur..." Merlin started. Arthur turned to look at the boy leaning on the railing beside him. He admired the way his messy black hair reflected a bit of the crimson from the sky around them. "Arthur, why did you decide to join me?"

"I could not have lived with myself if I had turned you in to the Navy to be hanged."

"You could have just turned me loose..."

Arthur thought about this. It hadn't really occurred to him that he could have just let Merlin and the Kilgharrah go free. He felt he no longer had any choice in the matter. Either he turned the pirates in, or he went with them. He told as much to Merlin. "I felt I could not just let you go and wonder for the rest of my life if you succeeded and what became of you."

"So it was not because of...any feelings you had...for me?" Merlin whispered. Arthur picked out a few words, but not enough to understand what Merlin was saying.

"Merlin, you are going to have to speak up."

Merlin debated repeating himself. He decided to change the topic instead.

"Why did you become a captain in the Royal Navy?" Merlin asked instead.

"Oh. Well I grew up in a house run by a Navy Captain. He is an admiral now. Admiral Uther Pendragon." Merlin recognized the name from Arthur's earlier supposedly private conversation with Percival. "I was primed to be a captain in the Royal Navy. My father's rank and fortune ensured it."

"Your father, Admiral Uther Pendragon. That is the man Percival is going to tell about you turning traitor," Merlin interjected.

"Yes, but...how did you know that?"

"Your conversation with Percival. I..." Merlin wiggled his fingers, the signal that to the two of them now meant the use of magic.

"So I suppose I cannot have any private conversations in the future," Arthur snapped sarcastically.

Merlin twirled a lock of hair around his finger, suddenly uncomfortable. "Sorry, I felt that one was important. I do not usually listen in on other people's conversations..."

Arthur noticed the boy's discomfort. He leaned over slightly, just enough so that his shoulder was resting against Merlin's. The touch comforted Merlin, as slight as it was. Merlin put his head on his arms where they lay folded on the railing. He sighed somewhat sadly.

"What is the matter, Merlin?"

Merlin wasn't quite sure how to answer the question. Something ate away inside him, but he wasn't sure what it was. He thought about what Guinevere had said. He didn't _fancy _Arthur, did he?

Then why did he feel the need to be near him?

"I...I must be tired I suppose," Merlin muttered.

"Are you going to head to your quarters?"

"No, not yet. I did say I would wait with you until the men returned."

"It was not a binding contract, Merlin, you are free to go and rest. Especially with that leg of yours," Arthur said, hoping Merlin would take that excuse to go and rest.

Merlin remained where he was, the hair on the back of his neck bristling a bit. "My leg is fine, Arthur."

"It looks horrible, to be quite honest. The scars have not faded." The red welts refused to calm.

"Then I will have these scars for the rest of my life, that is fine," Merlin sneered.

Arthur was puzzled. The boy seemed angry and defensive. Yet he remained where he was, his arm touching Arthur's own. Arthur looked down at the pirate.

Merlin's brows were furrowed. He looked more thoughtful than he did angry, but his words had been laced with venom. He was angry with himself for snapping at Arthur. The way the blond man had told him to go sounded like he wanted Merlin gone, and it had upset him.

Arthur misinterpreted the silence and the anger. "I suppose you could just," Arthur wiggled his fingers, "them away if the scars really bother you so much."

"I suppose I could," Merlin sighed. "I think I will keep them though."

"Why is that, Merlin?" A shiver went down Merlin's spine when Arthur said his name.

Merlin turned his head to look up at the other man. "They remind me of how you worried about me and took care of me."

Arthur blushed. It was his turn to question himself. He thought back to what Lancelot said earlier that day. Would he blush so much and so often if he had no romantic feelings for Merlin whatsoever? Would his heart race as it did now? Did he fancy the scrawny pirate?

"Well if your leg really is not bothering you, I suppose it is all right if you want to stay out here," _with me_, Arthur added silently.

Merlin did the same in his own head. "I will then."

After a minute of silence, Arthur had a thought."When I was sleeping on your cot, you..." Arthur started. He finished by carefully reaching a hand out and gently resting it on Merlin's head. Merlin started at the contact. Arthur began slowly smoothing down Merlin's hair, again and again. The pirate leaned into the touch and sighed happily, closing his eyes. "Why did you do that?"

Arthur didn't stop and Merlin didn't ask him to. "I am...not quite sure. You looked so peaceful, so different in your sleep than you did awake. Like a sleeping angel. So I just reached out and..." Arthur stroked his hair again as though to complete the other man's sentence. "Did it bother you? Because I think it is very nice."

Arthur blushed just a bit. "No, it was...comforting. After fretting about you all night, it was good to know that you were there and you were all right."

Merlin nodded, his face warm.

"You know what else you did. It is something you have done a few times now, when I think about it." Arthur stopped stroking Merlin's hair and brought his hand down near Merlin's face, where he simply let it hover with his palm facing up. It took the boy a moment to understand, removing one of his arms that he was resting his head on and grasping the hand in front of him. They let their fingers interlace as they dropped their hands to their sides. The two looked straight ahead, each one's face aflame.

Arthur thought about how he had felt with women in the past. He had held their hands, and even kissed a few, but none had ever made him feel like this. His heart beat fast. A fluttering feeling was taking place in his stomach. Where his and Merlin's skin connected, it felt like a static electricity lingered and constantly jolted him, not unpleasantly. He thought especially about the ones he had kissed. Why did he kiss them in the first place, if none of them had meant as much to him as this pirate boy did, who he had known for only a week?

And what would happen if he were to kiss the pirate boy?

Merlin was a mirror of Arthur's internal sensations, even if he did not know it. The difference was that Merlin had never done anything like this with anyone. He had never even thought he was worthy to be touched with affection by someone else. He thought himself unattractive, where Arthur thought him quite stunning. Merlin leaned his head against Arthur's arm. He felt his eyelids droop.

As sleepy as he was, Merlin didn't want the moment to end.

"There," Arthur whispered suddenly, breaking the silence again. Merlin opened his eyes and stood up. They did not let go of each other's hands.

"I see it." The dinghy was approaching. Merlin felt somewhat deflated.

As Arthur threw a rope ladder over the side for the pirate men to climb up, he said to Merlin, "I suppose we can go and get some sleep now."

Merlin's heart began racing even faster. He had forgotten that they were meant to sleep in the same bed. He was suddenly anxious to get to his quarters.

"I suppose so," is all Merlin said.

The two went, hand in hand, to the Captain's quarters.

There, they changed into their sleeping clothes. A sack of Arthur's possessions had been brought over from the Albion. Arthur thought it must have been Percival, who seemed to always remember the small important details that Arthur forgot. _He will make a fine captain,_ Arthur thought. The two men changed facing away from each other, furiously blushing at the thought of being naked in the same room. When they were dressed, Arthur began blowing out the various candles around the room.

"Arthur, what are you doing?"

"I am-" but he was interrupted by Merlin's wiggling fingers and arrogant grin.

"Right," Arthur sighed. He would have to get used to the conveniences that accompanied Merlin's magic.

Merlin climbed into bed first. Arthur followed him, staying as far to his side of the bed as he could. With the telltale flash of his eyes, Merlin extinguished the candles all at once. The room was now illuminated by the light of the full moon streaming in through the large windows.

Arthur risked inching closer to Merlin so that he wouldn't fall off the enormous bed. He figured there would be plenty of space between them anyway. Beneath the blanket, Merlin's hand found his own. Arthur looked over at him, but not with anger, or even surprise. Merlin caught his gaze and the two lay in silence for a while. Arthur rolled onto his side to face Merlin, bringing himself quite close to the boy.

"Merlin," Arthur whispered.

"Yes?"Merlin turned to face him in response.

Arthur figured it was now or never. He brought his unoccupied hand to Merlin's cheek. Merlin froze. Arthur leaned forward, closing the space between the two. Then, he pressed his lips against Merlin's forehead. When he pulled away from the boy, taking his hand away after a brief stroke with his thumb, he could see that Merlin looked dumbstruck. Arthur gave the boy's hand a squeeze. Merlin seemed to come back to his senses. He returned the pressure.

"Goodnight, Merlin."

Merlin came close enough to Arthur to rest his head against Arthur's shoulder. Arthur leaned his head against Merlin's. They kept their hands interlocked.

Goodnight, Arthur." Merlin breathed.


End file.
